


Skin Deep

by markofthemoros



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - World of Darkness (Games) Setting, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Biting, Blood Drinking, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Promnis - Freeform, Vampires, World of Darkness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-04-26 20:34:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14410071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markofthemoros/pseuds/markofthemoros
Summary: Vampire AU! Prompto works as a DJ at a nightclub, where an incredibly handsome stranger catches his eye across the dance floor. As he later runs into the man who seems to remember him, Prompto perhaps should have said no to the invite to continue the evening together... Promnis. Inspired by World of Darkness. Blood. Vampiric feeding. Hot but clean. I might continue this later.





	1. Stranger at the Nightclub

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, now I've done it all. From werewolves to pirates...I guess the vampires were an inevitability, right?
> 
> Inspired by Vampire: the Masquerade tabletop rpg. It's more World of Darkness than it is the Eos world, really, so in case you're not familiar with WoD, it's a concept where the supernatural cohabits the world with us humans. The creatures of the night prowl and prey among us, within their own societies, influencing ours. The World of Darkness is a darker version of an existing world, where things like addictions, corruption, crime, drugs and hedonism are more common, and the borderline of humanity becomes more blurry.
> 
> More on VtM after the text.
> 
>  
> 
> [Find me on Tumblr](https://markofthemoros.tumblr.com)

Skin Deep: Stranger at the Nightclub

Prompto's eyes slid closed in relishing the feel of the low bass resonating in his chest; in his ear, the purer, echoless sound of the music, making his head move with the beat in a subconscious surrender to the sound. Nimble fingers flicked the switches on the control board, fading out the last rhythms of the song as the intro of the next one mixed into it gradually.

The club wasn't too crowded; it was still a bit early, not even midnight. The party people would usually flood the place in the wee hours of the morning. It didn't mean Prompto didn't enjoy the mood already, though. The dazzling lights were speckling the dozen-something people on the dance floor, hands clapped to the music, people were singing along as hips swayed.

Suddenly, a strange shiver had the hairs in the back of his neck rising at the sudden feeling of being watched. On an instinct, his gaze went to the group of five girls dancing short ways from his booth. The ladies were obviously enjoying themselves: they had been occupying the dance floor for the majority of the evening, had requested him to play some of their favorite songs, he had even received a phone number. But the girls weren't looking at his direction, they were engrossed with each other as one of them had leaned in to speak to her friends over the music. The feeling was still there.

Trying not to think too much of it, Prompto nonetheless let his eyes go around the club in a seemingly casual manner. He was still holding the headphone to his right ear, his head jamming to the music lightly as his gaze swept over the-

It was almost painful, the way his heart skipped a beat, a strangled gasp slipping out as he met a gaze across the room. In the VIP lounge sat a man. The three top-most buttons of the elegant dress shirt were left undone, the milky skin beneath taking a cool hue under the fluorescent lights. The light brown hair was neatly spiked up in the front and came down to frame his picturesque face at the sides. And the gaze that currently held him prisoner -bold and keen and so utterly captivating- Prompto didn't think he could escape it even if he wanted to. A bead slid down his throat in time with the stranger blinking just once, the gaze narrowing, a sliver of excitement slipping into the smirk on the man's face as he raised his wine glass in a greeting.

His world came to a still. The sounds, the light, the time seemed to get pushed aside as the other man seemed to reach out to him across the room despite never moving a muscle other than bringing the glass up to his lips - those perfectly shaped lips that curled at the edge, and Prompto found himself wondering what it would be like to kiss those lips as something like a brush and a breath grazed the back of his neck-

A part of Prompto wanted to protest as the bond was severed. The man's eyes slid shut as he turned to talk to someone, his attention now on his conversational partner, as if Prompto had never been there. That part of him wanted to stomp across the floor right now, and grab that man and pull him close, to find out exactly what kissing him was like, what that smooth skin felt like under his fingers, what kind of eyes he would look at him with then…

His reason won, though. Masking his disappointed sigh into a soft snort, Prompto returned his attention to his laptop, the tracklist on the screen. The current song was drawing to its end and he hadn't queued a suitable follow-up. He knew exactly what he wanted to hear now, though, and typing only the first four letters into the search bar, Prompto selected a sultry reggaeton, the gradually building tempo of the music conveying exactly what he would have wanted to do without his clothes on right about now. He swayed with the music a little, imagining running his hands up the pale skin, drowning himself in that gaze as his heated skin met the other's, silently savoring the delicious tension that had gathered in his nether regions as the bass pounded against his ribcage enticingly. The dance floor had filled up with the first tunes of the track, people moving against each other in all but innocent ways as the temperature of the room climbed higher.

And as Prompto's gaze eventually drifted back towards the vicinity of the VIP booth, his heart jumped again at the man looking at him.

For the rest of the night, Prompto stole an occasional glance towards the lounge every so often. As the clock turned to the early morning hours, the club had filled up, the dance floor now a sea of swaying people, tangled hair and entwining bodies as the sexy beats brought out their primal side.

The booth had filled up as well. The man was talking with a few other patrons, Prompto noted. From the looks of it, they seemed involved somehow, and for reasons Prompto didn't dare to start figuring out even for himself, that seemed to bring forth a twitch of irritation in him. He wasn't usually one to get that infatuated, he wasn't one for jealousy. He liked to swing it, keep all his doors open, not to make commitments and...not to fish in the wrong waters. But...he had caught the man's gaze every so often. A few times, when his eyes had wandered towards the lounge, he had met those eyes of abaddon again, watching him, and the man hadn't turned away.

Prompto made a point not to look as the party vacated the VIP booth some twenty-ish minutes before the last call. The evening was running out, but the electricity of the night had made sure he wouldn't be getting any sleep in a good few hours. All but too eager to wrap this up and go home, take a shower and work away the throbbing that had assaulted his groin for what seemed like forever already, Prompto grinned lecherously at his own thoughts as he faded in the second-to-last track of the evening.

As the lights went out, the music died down and the bouncers guided the last of the customers out of the door, Prompto carefully stuffed his belongings into his DJ bag. Throwing his bartender colleagues a cheery 'byes', the blond headed to the staff's exit.

The cool night-air greeted him as Prompto stepped onto the side alley; a small shiver ran down his spine at the breeze. It...was the breeze, right? For some reason, the same tingling feeling of eyes on him was back again, although less intense. He must have been imagining it, anyway, he came to understand, with a small pang of disappointment, as he scanned the alley up and down (hopefully), and saw no-one. "Tch." What was with him, anyway? It wasn't like he didn't exchange the bedroom eyes with a myriad of people on a regular basis. Sometimes it led to something, sometimes it didn't. So why did he feel almost cheated when the distant eros had walked out of his life without never really visiting it in the first place?! He was overreacting. He was clearly overreacting. Determined to push it out of his head -with a fast-paced, raging intense jerk-off as soon as he got home- Prompto stepped onto the street.

He had walked for only a few blocks, though, when the sight of that man from the club leaning to a wall had his breath hitching again. Just outside a late-night taco place, the man was looking at his phone in a seemingly bored fashion. Prompto didn't know why but his first impression was that the man was waiting for something. (Someone.)

(Him?)

Strangling the swell of false hope fluttering in his chest, Prompto told himself sternly to back off. No way the guy would be just hanging around here waiting for _him_. How could he have possibly even known Prompto would come this way? It was simply a coincidence. And besides, the young man reminded himself, he had left with company. Maybe someone was just ordering some food and the man was waiting outside. No way he was here for him.

But as the gaze -green, Prompto could now tell. So luminous, brisk green- rose from the screen and turned to him for the umpteenth time that night, Prompto's upper body muscles tightened. But it was nothing compared to the strain in his chest as a smile spread onto those lips at a warm look of recognition.

"Well, good evening." Fuck, that voice! Low, satin with a soft rasp to it. Prompto made a quiet sound in the back of his throat.

"Uh, hi," he gave a small wave of a hand. "You...were at Oceano club earlier, right?"

"Indeed. Quite pleasant. And I must say, I enjoyed your taste in music."

The blond wanted to step on his toes at the warm sensation spreading over his face and neck. Really? Blushing now? What, was he a virgin or something? "Thanks...I, I do some remixes myself."

"Oh? Did we perhaps hear some of that tonight then?"

Encouraged, Prompto named some tracks that he had tuned up a bit for the night, and the man nodded, although it didn't really give away if he was actually aware of the titles or not.

"Could I perhaps offer you a drink?" the stranger asked, with unconcealed suggestion in his tone, and did he just imagine it or was there a flash of something sparking amongst the emerald? "That is, if you're not in a hurry. It is quite the time."

Quite the time, his ass. Prompto wouldn't miss this chance for the world. "Yeah. Sure. Thanks." Then, he remembered something. "Is that alright, though? I don't wanna interrupt anything," the blond peeked inside the eatery in case some of the men he had seen at the VIP lounge was in there.

As if the man had read his thoughts, he shrugged, "If you're referring to the company from earlier, I assure you there is no problem."

He couldn't believe his luck. Not only was this man asking him out, he was also hinting at having no restrictions. "Then, yeah. Sure. I, uh, that'd be great," he grinned, shrugging. "I'm Prompto. Prompto Argentum." He offered his hand.

"Ignis Scientia."

Scientia. He would commit that name to memory.

He would be screaming it out later that night if the stars were aligned right.

"Well then. Might I suggest a place I know near here? I dare say the atmosphere there is rather _inviting_."

He hadn't missed the subtle stress Ignis had put on the last word. Excited to see where this would go, Prompto's grin took a suggestive edge. "That's it then. Lead the way."

Ignis took them to a hotel bar. Prompto was more the kind to visit the casual pubs and walk-in terraces, but he could see why this place would appeal to someone like Ignis. Expensive-looking interior, dark wallpapers with ornamental print on them. Hardwood bar decorated with lowly lit shaded lamps and real-stone statues of bare women. Couches and armchairs as seats. The dance floor in front of the band stage was polished parquet that formed a massive compass needle onto the flooring. Everything about it spelled 'splendor', and Prompto found himself wondering why Ignis was at a place like Oceano tonight in the first place.

Wasting no time, the brunet led him to the bar. "What would you like to drink?"

"Uhm…" The sky eyes went around the brand bottles. "I think I'll just have a beer."

"As you wish," the brunet nodded. "And red wine for me, please." The bartender handed out the drinks, and Ignis slid a bill over the counter, telling him to keep the change. Impressed, not as much by the generosity but by the apparent wealth of his company, Prompto ogled the retreating back as Ignis headed towards a table. That had been a hundred dollar bill.

"You rich or something?" Prompto chuckled, pointing his thumb over his shoulder towards the bar. Ignis simply shrugged dismissively. He never answered the question.

"I happen to frequent this place. Nevermind the cost. Please, have a seat." Prompto sat down on a firm, leather-furnished armchair. Distracting himself from the curious pair of eyes observing him from a couple yards away, the blond took a few gulps of his beer, waiting for the man to talk first.

"So, Prompto," the said man drew in a silent breath at the sound of his name falling from this man's lips, "what else do you do besides music?"

"Take pictures," Prompto replied nonchalantly. "I'm a freelance photographer. You know, for 'papers and such."

Ignis seemed pleased. "Fascinating. You're quite the artist then, I take it?"

"Yeah, I guess," the blond chuckled, scratching the back of his neck, then taking another gulp of his beer.

It was magical, the way Ignis seemed to draw in everything he said. Like a hawk, his attention never wavered as Prompto told him about his work, his music, how he dreamed of becoming a music producer. When he ran out of drink, Ignis kindly refused any offers that Prompto would be happy to pay for his own drink and instead insisted that he had invited him to sit with him, and what kind of a host would he be if his guest had to pay for his own drink. So the next one was brought to him, and although Ignis had never voiced it, it had become painstakingly clear that yes, Ignis Scientia was indeed filthy-rich.

And the more they talked, the more he seemed to enjoy the man's company. He was certainly quite the looker, polite, interested to hear him out, and had a sassy sense of humor too. Alluring, if Prompto had to put it in words, and he found himself becoming increasingly interested in this man, and he swore to god, this courtship was all nice and all, but if they weren't going to fuck reasonably soon he would burst!

It never registered that Ignis hadn't touched his wine.

When the brunet, noting the time to be closer to early morning hours already, less than inconspicuously suggested a room, Prompto was about ready jump him there in the lobby. Holding his horses, though, he stepped into the elevator, and they rode up in silence, a respective foot or two between them as neither tried to make eye contact. In the same manner, Ignis stepped out as they arrived to their floor, not looking behind him to see if he followed, and now of all times Prompto begun second-guessing himself. Was Ignis even interested in him in the first place? He had been so...charming earlier, but the way he was now, almost like he didn't exist, had Prompto on his toes a little.

But as Ignis stopped before their door, and turned to wait for him, that molten-gold smile back on his face and his eyes twinkling with the wicked promise...Prompto's heart soared. He had never walked with such long strides in his life as he crossed the distance. Ignis pushed the door open, challenge in his eyes as he motioned him to enter, and Prompto's teeth nibbled his lips at the urge to kiss him then and there.

He stepped in before him, though - only to freeze at the sight of the luxurious room. The tall glass panel wall gave a perfect view over the city. On the floor there were animal skins, and Prompto didn't doubt for a moment whether they were real. The numerous couches seemed like they could swallow a man up into their soft confines. There was a starry sky of led lights planted into the ceiling. "Wow…!"

Behind him, Ignis had closed the door. "Do you like it?"

"It's incredible!" Prompto breathed out, unable to tear his eyes from the sight of it. He had only ever seen such opulence in pictures, only ever dared to dream of experiencing it himself. And here he was. So blown away by the splendor he didn't notice Ignis had come to stand right behind him.

"Yes. Yes, it is."

His breath hitched at the sensation of a breath on his neck; he spun around. Ignis was so close to him. And the way he had said that...there had been something dangerous in that, a thrilling undertone of _hunger_ Prompto could now see coating those eyes. Like Ignis was trying to hold back. Their breaths mingled in the vicinity of one another.

"Prompto…"

Done with wasting time, Prompto closed the distance, wanting this man so bad he thought he was going to lose his mind. Clashing their lips together, a hungry, greedy, sloppy kiss at first, Prompto pulled the man flush against himself. Only then did it register that Ignis's body, Ignis's lips, they were...surprisingly cool. Cold, really. An intoxicating contrast to the searing kiss the man was now pulling him into.

Ignis's tongue had coaxed his, now dancing with it as he tasted the flesh offered to him. And it was like Prompto had fallen under a spell, for the desire to let this man have him, to be his at any way he wanted made Prompto moan into to the mouth that was stripping him of his reason with extreme precision.

The leather-covered fingers slipping beneath his shirt were the last straw. Feeling for his muscles as they trailed up his back, beneath his arm, found the perked nipple. Prompto broke the kiss a little, panting against his cheek as Ignis's other hand grabbed his ass. "I-Ignis…"

"Hush now, love," the breath was ghosting over his ear; Prompto's eyes squeezed shut at the nibbling of his lobe. "There's no need to fear…"

Fear...Prompto could fucking _die_ right now, and he wouldn't care as long as Ignis's touch remained.

"Say that you are mine."

"Wha-what…?" Prompto muttered, dazzled.

"Tell me that you're mine. Give into me, and I promise, you'll feel better than you ever have in your entire life."

Maybe it was the late hour. Maybe it was the booze. But as those words were out, Prompto knew instantly them to be true, and more than anything, he wanted to just go with it. It went against his nature a bit, he usually wasn't that submissive. But Ignis...the way he smelled -strongly of musk and sandalwood, with an earthy undertone like ashes- ...and the way those hands explored his skin expertly as if he knew each and every place Prompto enjoyed being pleasured at...he found himself wanting to let go. To allow this man anything he had to offer and just enjoy this. "O-okey."

"Hn? What is it, darling?"

"I-I'm yours. Nevermind..anything, just...have me." The shaky intake in his ear left him shivering; that had sounded ferocious. Ignis's grip of him tightened, he was pulled closer.

"Prompto…"

A hand rose into his hair; it cupped his ear before sliding down his cheek, to the back of his neck. Prompto didn't resist as his head was bent to the side a little, to allow the nibbling lips on his collar a better access. A soft moan slid his eyes closed at the sensation of hot breath on his skin.

White-hot agony exploded on his neck, slicing through his haze of arousal like a burning blade. "Aaghh!" Instinct had him trying to escape it, only to find that he was being held firmly in place. "Wha-what are you…doin'?!" It hurt. Like someone was pushing a piece of glass into his flesh.

Saw-edge slivers of darkness washed across his mind, and through his struggles, his whimpers, there was the sound of sucking.

' _He is...oh god, he is…'_

Primal panic coursed through him. This couldn't be happening! It was impossible…! All but paralyzed with fear, Prompto's inhale was a shuddering pant. And even so, alongside the pain blossomed a warm sensation, a pleasure that seemed to originate from that very same searing. Dulling it, pushing everything else aside as the intensity of it broke through. An orgasmic high, like he was being plunged into the ecstacy -it was making him lightheaded. "Ah...aahh…" In his ears, there was a loud grunt. One of relief and rapture, and Ignis bit deeper.

The sensation rose in him like a tsunami. Prompto only barely registered the shifting hands on his body as he was lost in absolute euphoria. In his ears, his own uncontrollable moans asking for more, Ignis's heavy breaths, the man flush against him, the previously cold touch now heated, dancing on his skin. He couldn't move, he couldn't even breathe. All that existed was the trembling of his body as his mind washed white with pleasure.

* * *

Something felt soft, incredibly soft against his cheek. He moaned a little as he subconsciously snuggled into the comfort. It felt amazing. _He_ felt amazing. Thoroughly at ease, like he had been melted and molded back together, all flaws gone. So completely satisfied...

As more of his senses awakened, however, the first questionable thing he noticed was a parched feeling in his throat. ' _Wow...what's that about? Like...after screaming at a gig…'_

He opened his eyes a little, his face still pressed into the silken feeling - a pillow. The grandiose space above him was speckled with led light stars. Streaks of daylight poured in through the blinds. "Eh?"

The last night came rushing back.

That guy - Ignis! Where was he? Supporting himself onto his elbows, he scanned the room. The man wasn't anywhere to be seen. "Hello?" There was no answer, and Prompto visibly winced at the pang of disappointment.

Where was Ignis? He couldn't remember. They had come to the hotel together, he remembered wanting Ignis...but what after that? Had something happened? A brief glance down his unclothed chest had his heart leaping a little. Naked...so did that mean…? "Tch." Slumping back down with a hiss of irritation, Prompto turned onto his back and brought an arm over his eyes. His lips pulled back into a snarl.

A one-night-stand or not, he would have thought the man to at least have the courtesy to stay until he woke up. Not take what he wanted and dump him like a used cloth. And yet he couldn't bring himself to be bitter, or mad at Ignis. If anything, there was a hollow longing in his chest, his skin crawling at the memento of the touch. The sex...he couldn't remember that much of it. Not any of it, really. Just the mind-blowing pleasure. Whoa. It must have been intense. Prompto was sure last night had been the best sex he had ever had.

And Ignis was gone.

Frustrated, he kicked the satin covers -satin fucking covers, that posh prick!- off, and got up from the bed. Eyeing all the grandeur like it had done something to personally offend him, Prompto already felt like tossing one of those damned pillows across the room when something caught his eye.

On the coffee table sat a fine bottle of champagne in a cooler, and leaning against it a note. On the chair were his clothes, neatly folded into a pile.

Curious more than anything, Prompto wrapped a bedsheet around his waist, letting it drape behind him as he walked to the table. As he picked the note up, his eyebrows rose at the pristine bottle of Bollinger.

 

_Dear Prompto,_

_Thank you for the magnificent evening._

_My apologies, I cannot be there with you_

_when you read this. I'm afraid I must make my leave._

_Please find enclosed your clothes. I have also arranged so that_

_at any time you so wish, you're free to have the room service_

_provide you with breakfast. Should you require anything else,_

_help yourself to any services you desire._

_I would be delighted to see you again._

_\- I._

 

Prompto had to reread the words on the paper a few times. 'Delighted to see you again.'

Ignis would be _delighted_ to see him again!

Prompto threw his fist in the air a little as he did a small victory dance. Holy hell, he didn't know what had happened but he was falling hard! This man -Ignis- he was...Prompto couldn't even find the words for it. Dreamy? Yes, the man was dreamy. Gorgeous. And the mere thought of a retake of last night...his toes were curling already.

A wide grin plastered onto his heated face, Prompto carefully folded the note before his eyes went to the bottle.

Wouldn't do to waste it, right?

* * *

He left the hotel three hours later.

He never ordered breakfast.

* * *

**About Vampire: the Masquerade.**

**In that world, vampires drink blood (human is preferred, but animals will do, too, although they provide less nutrition and don't taste as good) and are unable to consume human food. They have various powers that ease the task of hunting, too. Here, at least two game skills, Dominate and Presense, are used subtly, to make the vampire seem very pleasing to the target as well as provide the victim with an innate will to obey. It is not necessary, however, for the vampire to kill their victim. Killing might not be the best course of action, either, since in most cases, the bite causes the prey to feel extreme euphoria that wipes their mind and memories of being bitten. Licking the wound is enough to close it, and mere few sips is enough to nourish a vampire. Also, in some cases, it might even be handy to leave food sources around for further visits, since, even if the human would figure out that they are being bitten by a vampire, on occasion they have already developed an addiction to the bliss of the bite and would offer themselves of their own free will. (This what happened to Prompto, lol.)**

**Also, not all vampires behave as elegantly as Iggy does. There are feral vampires, there are vampires that despise all humanity (unlike Iggy, who values humans' genuine well-being). It has a lot to do with the clan a vampire happens to be added to at birth (when they're made) as well as their personalities. Ignis belongs to the clan Ventrue (please let me know if you knew this before now! I was dearly hoping someone would guess it!), who are usually of high social class, classical noblesse and the aristocrats of the vampire society. Old blood, old power, old money. The Ventrue hold etiquette and the vampire society's inner rules to the highest value, and are often highly influential. The Ventrue would prefer to keep the vampiric world hidden from humans, and although perhaps not exactly respectful of humans, they see no particular interest in enslaving or slaughtering the mankind. They often keep a small circle of humans around themselves, though, to gain easy access to food.  
**

**I'm leaving this open for now, since I dunno, I'm not really keen on it right now, but in case I feel like coming back to this some time later, it's good to have it at a point where I can bring forth the Next Night.**

**Thank you for reading. Stay safe everyone. Remember: just because you ain't seeing it, doesn't mean it ain't seeing you.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- - Warning: This chapter contains an attempted rape. - -

The deep bass resonated through his chest pleasurably. Prompto threw his head back in a lewd display as he swayed to the tempo. The hands sliding down his sides settled at his hips, and Prompto pressed his back almost to his company’s chest as he danced in his arms.

 

For the first two weekends, Prompto had been hopeful. Each working night, he had scanned the masses of people like a hawk, looking for that one particular presence. The stylish updo, the pompous tailored suit, the sharp rim of the glasses.

 

Ignis hadn’t come back.

 

The guy leaned in to speak in his ear, to ask him what he wanted to drink. The puff of air against Prompto’s ear elicited a tremor of excitement, one Prompto didn’t bother hiding before he told him his choice. With a short tightening of fingers on his hips, the man offered him a flirtatious smirk before leaving him to dance while he went to get their drinks. Prompto’s gaze lingered on him until he joined the queue to the bar.

 

Almost four weeks. Ignis hadn’t come back. Despite the overly formal thank-you note he had left, with the clear suggestion of a retake of their night, there hadn’t been so much as a message. Then again, Prompto had reminded himself, Ignis had never asked for his number so how could he have messaged him anyway? But with the trouble of taking him to a fucking five-star hotel, the seduction and the hint of a later… Prompto hissed out at the bang of rejection clutching his heart. He hadn’t meant to go there, not again.

 

It had honestly shocked him, how _badly_ he had fallen for the guy, based on just one night. One night that just so happened to be the best date he had ever had, topped with the mind-blowing sex and that gorgeous hotel room, and...and Prompto was lost. He was crushing so hard he would have laughed at himself - if there was anything to laugh about. He hated how each warm though, each memory of the man’s lips trailing along his neck, now tasted like betrayal. And at the same time, Prompto wanted to slap himself. What had he even been thinking? Sure, a guy like Ignis would get anyone he wanted. Surely he had just found someone else. Why was Prompto even surprised about that?! Ignis probably had partners for every night of the week. With that kind of sweet talk, surely Ignis would never lack a willing mattress whenever he felt like topping one.

 

Dammit, he wasn’t supposed to go there!

 

He made a face as he shoved the man out of his mind. Focusing on the music, Prompto pretended to enjoy this as much as he was letting on. Fine. If the posh prick wouldn’t keep his end of the bargain, neither would Prompto. He owed him nothing. That’s why he was out here in the first place. Partying, for the first time in a long time, with every intention of enjoying himself, getting wasted, maybe hooking up with this guy he had been dancing with. The guy was reasonably good-looking. About his height, sandy blond hair that came down below his ears. A couple years older than him maybe, Prompto hadn’t asked. Nice body, tender touch. He wasn’t bad. Not bad at all. It was just…

 

It was just, he wasn’t Ignis.

 

“Hey.” Prompto hadn’t realized closing his eyes before they now snapped at the sandy blond. “Everything alright?” he offered over the music as he handed Prompto his beer.

 

Giving himself a mental slap for getting lost in thought, Prompto threw him a sultry grin, “Yeah.” He took a few generous swigs of his drink as an emphasis before he draped himself over his company, one arm circling around his neck. “I’m awesome, how ‘bout you?” Smirking, the guy muttered a low ‘gettin there’ as his free hand cupped Prompto’s ass to pull him in.

 

The kiss was sloppy and wet, but Prompto leaned into it. He _needed_ this. All pretension aside, Prompto grinded himself against his company, encouraged by the pleased gasps of the other, allowed himself to get dirty. What if Igns would see him now? What would he say? Would he be jealous? Would he think differently of him? Inwardly snorting, Prompto gave the man a mental finger. Ignis could think whatever the hell he liked. His loss. He knew where to find him, he had four weeks to make a move. Prompto wasn’t saving himself for the asshole like some damsel. If he wasn’t going to act on it, hell, Prompto himself would.

 

“Damn, you’re hot,” was huffed into his ear; the grip of his ass tightened.

 

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” Prompto spoke against the lips brushing his own.

 

Suddenly, a wave of dizziness washed over him; Prompto slumped against his partner a little as his knees buckled.  “Wha-?”

 

“Hey? Hey, you ok?” a voice sounded worried, but Prompto couldn’t quite pinpoint where it was coming from.

 

“Yeah...yeah, good,” he muttered. Somehow it was difficult to move his lips, like they were numb. What was happening?

 

“You feeling alright? Wanna go sit down?”

 

No, he wasn’t feeling alright. His pulse pounded his ears, slower than usual, each deep sound shocking him down to his core. His head swam a little, the disco lights dancing on his retinae became blurred. “Yeah, le...let’s…”

 

Prompto felt himself being guided. He didn’t bother paying attention where, he just wanted to sit down. His legs were lead as he tried to drag them on. The floor wavered in and out of focus, he could barely make out his feet. “Comoon. Help me out here, man,” the voice coming from somewhere chuckled, but it was tinted with worry. Yes, walk. One foot in front of the other. Why was it so hard? What was happening? Nausea wrenched his gut, he was panting.

 

There was a clack, and cooler air whisked against his face; Prompto let out a relieved breath at the soothing sensation. He was feeling like shit. Everything was spiraling and he was panting, his words became slurred as his mouth refused to obey. Vaguely it registered that he was pushed against something hard and grainy, a weight in front of him holding him upright. Then, too soon, there were hands upon him, feeling him up, fondling his belt.

 

‘No…’

 

Prompto’s stomach dropped as it registered what was happening.

 

‘No, not like this…!’

 

He tried to move, to force himself to shove the blurry form away from him, but his body wasn’t obeying.

 

‘Stop it…’

 

He groaned softly in refusal, shaking his head what little he could, but that didn’t stop the hands roaming his body. Dark blotches appeared in his vision, he hovered at the edges of unconsciousness, his dead weight slumped against the wall as the hands undid his zipper.

 

‘Please...stop…’

 

Prompto whined in protest, but it went ignored as the hem of his shirt was pushed up.

 

“Excuse me.” Prompto blinked at the new voice, coming from somewhere far away. He was too exhausted to care, though, his eyes drooping as his head lolled to the front.

 

The touch disappeared, however. “...the fuck...you?!”

 

“...believe he’s...ith me. Scram…’ll live...ttle longer.”

 

“...iss off, freak!”

 

Prompto barely heard the crash. Unable to hold himself up, he crumbled to the ground in an ungraceful heap as the weight supporting him disappeared. ‘What…’s...happen…?’

There were sounds of struggle, a voice yelling. They sounded angry. Then, thuds, almost too quiet for him to hear. The primal fear forced his eyes open, to look at the dance of shadows as two larger dark forms came closer. At that, with a groan of discomfort, his lids lost the battle with gravity.

 

“...ey...sn’t this Iggy’s pet?”

 

“Smells like ‘em…”

 

“..hat’s...doing…’ere?”

 

‘Iggy...Ig...Ignis?’

 

Smelled like…he did?

 

Prompto’s eyes rolled back behind closed lids as his mind was snuffed out.

 

* * *

 

He felt stiff.

 

Like he had been thrown under a road roller.

 

His head swirled, the vertigo assaulting him relentlessly. Prompto groaned, a miserable sound as he subconsciously shifted...

 

‘Huh?’

 

He was lying down. It was...soft. Warm.

 

Since when had rapists been that considerate?

 

From somewhere came a gruff voice, “Hey...think he’s...aking up.”

 

There was a presence next to him. A part of him feared what he would see, but steeling himself, Prompto finally managed to crack his eyes open.

 

Delight mixed into the severity plastered over Ignis’s features as he hovered over him. And did Prompto just imagine it, or did the man just sigh? “Prompto.”

 

“I-Ig...ni..s?” He tried to push himself off of the softness beneath him.

 

A light touch on his forehead pressed him down firmly yet gently. “Keep still. You’re still recovering.”

 

“Wha-what happened?” Prompto whined, allowing Ignis to push him back into the cushions.

 

“You were drugged. What do you remember?”

 

“Ungh...I...uh, the club. There was this...this guy,” he moaned. Then, just _whom_ he was talking to crashed down on him like an avalanche. ”Shit…!” Prompto dragged an arm over his eyes, a poor attempt to hide the embarrassment that was rising onto his face. For Ignis to see him like this...for him to know that Prompto was _almost fucking raped_ by a stranger like some crack whore-!

 

“What’re you doing here, Ignis?” Trying and failing to hide his misery from his voice, Prompto wished for a lightning to strike him down then and there. God, he was pathetic. The reason he’d gone clubbing in the first place was to get _this particular man_ out of his head. To score some nice enough one-night-stand to fuck away the pain Ignis had left him with...only to end up like this. Humiliated and hating himself, all on his own accord, too. Sure, he hadn’t _meant_ to get himself drugged. He could have refused a drink from a stranger. He should have known better. God, Ignis must have thought he was such an idiot! His cheeks glowed, he was sure Ignis could _feel_ the heat radiating from him. Prompto wished the earth would just open up beneath him. He wanted to sink underground and just disappear. “Where am I?” he groaned, still weak but the grogginess was dissolving.

 

“You’re safe. Some people I trust very much brought you here after you lost consciousness.”

 

Groaning questioningly, Prompto pushed himself to sitting position, ignoring the bespectacled man’s attempts to hold him down. The instant he did, though, his breath caught. He was in a dimly lit room, furnished with the same splendor Prompto had witnessed at the hotel almost a month ago. The decorations were wrought iron and solid wood. Tall bookshelves and even taller windows railed the walls. There were several lamps, but the most light was still provided by the elegant black marble fireplace on the other side of the room. The flames rattled softly, making the shadows dance on the dark carpet. It was a luxurious room, and certainly one Prompto could easily imagine for Ignis. But despite the fluttering of his heart, Prompto pulled himself back. He wasn’t as arrogant as to _seriously believe_ that the man he had met _once for a fuck-out_ had brought him _to his home_. “What is this place?” Prompto breathed out.

 

Ignis didn’t answer for a moment. Then, he just nodded, “You’ll be safe here. Once you’re feeling better, you’re free to leave, although I’ve taken the liberty to have a room prepared for you.”

 

Did this guy hear himself? ‘Taken the liberty to have a room prepared for him.’ For him? So, did that mean Ignis was actually asking him to…? Something in Prompto’s chest soared, his heart beat faster. It was almost too easy to forget that he was supposed to be mad at the guy, for first hinting at a continuation of their last time and then leaving him hanging.

 

What snapped Prompto out of his daydreaming was the gruff ‘hnh’ sounding not too far away. Only only then did it register that they weren’t alone.

 

There were two other people in the room. A big guy with long, dark brown and curly hair was sitting hunched over in an armchair closest to the -couch, Prompto now noted- couch that he was lying on. The man’s face was stoic as he studied the boy, but there was something playful in his eyes. A flicker of interest, and the darker brunet smirked at Ignis. There was something...wolfish in that look. Shivers ran down Prompto’s spine and instinctively he shifted away from the man.

 

There was an irate puff of air close to his ear. Like...like a hiss, and Prompto already made a move to turn to look at Ignis when he was thrown off by the other foreign person in the room.

 

A charcoal-haired young man leaned against a wall. He was idly flicking something small, like a lighter, in his fingers, his attention on the blond. “You alright?”

 

It took a moment for Prompto to gather that he was supposed to answer that. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m...fine.”

 

Next to him, Ignis sighed, a degree of irritation lacing it, like the man was trying to hold back rolling his eyes. “Prompto, meet Noctis and Gladiolus,” he motioned respectively for the men. “They’re...friends. They brought you here.”

 

“Hey,” the one introduced as Gladiolus offered a jerk of his head. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

 

“Uh, uhm. Tha-thanks. Thank you,” Prompto stammered, averting his eyes. The flush that had been settling so nicely was back like an inferno, and the blond grit his teeth. Dammit…!

 

“So what were you doing there anyway?” Gladiolus asked him, a hard edge to his tone, like a demand.

 

“I was...partying? Having fun.”

 

“An odd way to have fun, I’d say.”

 

What’s with this guy? Prompto couldn’t help but take the comment into heart a little. It sounded almost like this guy was _accusing him_ of what had happened. As if he had _asked_ to be almost-! “Look, thanks for stepping in an’ all, alright? But-”

 

“I think that’s enough,” Ignis noted. Calmly, it was almost like a whisper, but immediately Prompto felt the same strange urge to comply. He shut up immediately, unformulated questions buzzing in his head but none finding their way onto his tongue.

 

Ignis’s attention was now on his tall friend, though. Glaring daggers at the other man, Ignis’s voice was clipped, “The same goes for you, Gladio.” Somehow, Prompto was left with a strange feeling that Ignis was saying more than he was saying. A small voice inside him screamed at him to remember. The voice of that man...Gladiolus...it was familiar, he had heard it before.

 

‘Iggy’s pet.’

 

Prompto visibly jerked at the recollection. What the hell had that meant? He had talked about Ignis _-his_ Ignis, Prompto found himself adding in his mind- he was sure of it now. But what had he meant by ‘pet’? And that other thing...the thing probably this Noctis guy had said…

 

‘Smells like him.’

 

What the hell did he mean, he smelled like him? Prompto showered, thank you very much! And anyway, how had the men he had never seen in his life known that he had been with Ignis? The man didn’t strike him as the kiss and tell type.

 

(Smelled like him…?)

 

The raven-haired one, Noctis, huffed and pushed himself off the wall. As the midnight orbs met his, Prompto’s breath caught as he _could have sworn_ there was a flash of purple in the dark eyes and suddenly he was certain the other could see right through him. He was vulnerable under that gaze, unable to escape it as this young man imprisoned him with his eyes, splayed him open for himself and looked directly into his soul.

 

How long the gaze lasted, he didn’t know. Could have been seconds, could have been years. Time seemed to stand still as he was unable to stop this Noctis from unravelling him with his eyes.

 

Until something else caught his attention. Behind Noctis, above an elegant mahogany dresser, hung a marvellous ornament-edged mirror. Despite standing right in front of it, the mirror didn’t show the raven-hair’s reflection.

 

“The fuck…?!” Prompto exclaimed, partly disgusted, partly panicking. Adrenaline flooded his veins with the urge to flight or flee, and the blond tried to stand up on shaky legs.

 

Reading something from Prompto’s reaction, Ignis’s wide eyes flew to the raven. “Noctis!”

 

The said man’s head spun around, to take in his mistake. “Shit!” His attention snapped back to Ignis, his face wild with disquiet as he tried to find the words. Then, his mouth withdrew into a thin line, dark resolution casting a shadow over his features, and those eben wood eyes turned back to Prompto. “Well. Can’t be helped now.” Something like doomsday in that voice, and Noctis took a step closer, his movement like that of a stalking predator, and Prompto’s heart beat so hard he feared it would break out of his chest. He stumbled backwards blindly, getting caught onto the table, floundering on spaghetti legs.

 

“Ugh. Great going,” Gladiolus sighed, raking a hand through his mane as he stood up, too. Prompto’s lower lip quivered as the men stepped closer, bloodthirst in they eyes, both eyeing him like prey as they closed in on him.

 

Hyperaroused as he was, Prompto yelped at the grip on his arm. He was yanked hard enough for his still unsteady legs to fumble a little. But what brought him back was the man standing in front of him protectively, pulling him farther behind his back. There was the hissing sound again, this time a lot louder.

 

Gladiolus scoffed, “Comoon, Iggy, you can’t be serious!” The ferocious snarl twisting the bespectacled man’s features was enough to tell that he was very serious indeed. “Just take him. He knows too much now and you know it.”

 

“No.”

 

“What? Like, who’s the one always lecturing me about tying loose ends?!” Noctis tossed his hand in the air. “This endangers the Masquerade!”

 

Ignis’s eyes were cold. “I am well aware.”

 

Noctis snorted, “Specs. You seriously going to do this? He’s _cattle_.”

 

“Again, Noct, I’m well aware. But please do not assume that just because the Insomnian principate is governed by the Lasombra, respectively, the clan could regulate the food of the malleable clans.” Ignis hadn’t moved an inch, but each fiber in his upper body was tense and on the edge. Ready. His right hand was clutching Prompto’s arm, not tightly enough to hurt but tightly nonetheless. The blond was listening to this bizarre interaction with panic and hope waging a war inside him. His heart thundered in his chest, his breaths coming in shallow gasps. He didn’t understand what was going on, just that the only thing keeping him alive at this point was Ignis.

 

Shielding him from the other men, Ignis pushed him farther behind his back as Gladiolus grunted, “Fine. I’ll do it.”

 

There was a flash of blue light, and the brute man froze at the dagger pressed lightly against his throat. “Take one more step, Gladio, and I’ll carve your vocal cords out.” Ignis’s tone begged the man not to make him hold up to his word. The blade trembled slightly, but Ignis’s hand never wavered as he shook his head to the brunet. “Please.”

 

Something in Gladiolus’s expression softened, and he took a step back. “Alright, Iggy.” Ignis lowered his weapon. “But you know this can’t go on like this. Your human has heard too much. Take him.”

 

“I appreciate your concern, Gladio. But I will take care of this, he’s my claim.”

 

His _human_? His claim? Suddenly Prompto felt cold. What was happening?! Why were they talking about him like he was some possession? It had been a mistake to stay here. He had to get out, now! He struggled in the vice grip Ignis had of his arm! “Like hell! Let go of me!” Ignis just yanked him closer to himself. “Ignis? Ignis, please-!” Ignis didn’t spare him a glance, though. He was engaged in a war of stares with the larger brunet, like the men were having a silent conversation not meant for any of their ears. “Ignis!”

 

“Prompto,” Ignis’s tone was stern, and the mere way he said his name made him still instantly. Ignis wasn’t looking at him, though. He was still facing the other men, not as much as turning to speak over his shoulder. “I understand you’re feeling quite roused at the moment, and believe me when I say, this wasn’t the way I had intentented to go about this. But nevertheless, these two are right. You have come to know too much, and I’m afraid you cannot leave.”

 

“What?” the blond near-whispered, eyes wide. “Comoon, man, you must be kidding!” His eyes went around the trio frantically as he tried to pull his arm free. “I-I won’t say anything! To anyone. I promise! Hell, I don’t even know where I am! How could I possibly be a threat? Just, please-!”

 

“I’m afraid it’s not quite that simple.”

 

The one named Noctis had been observing with solemnity in his eyes. Arms crossed over his chest, the man hadn’t as much as flinched, not even when Ignis had held the blade to Gladio’s throat. But now he spoke, with unquestionable authority in his tone, “You sure about this, Ignis? You want to keep this boy that much?”

 

Ignis sounded like the words tasted bad on his tongue already before they were out, “Amiable food sources are hard to come by.”

 

(Food sources?!)

 

Prompto’s heart beat so fast he feared he would get a seizure. But hard as he tried to tell his body to fight, to run from these madmen that were discussing his fate like it was a Sunday sport, he couldn’t bring himself to move a muscle. Wide-eyed and panting, the blond’s lip trembled as he waited, dreaded for what was to come next.

 

Noctis said nothing, just nodded once with a ‘hmm’ that conveyed nothing about how he felt about the declaration. “You know you’ve just practically commited a treason by drawing that blade?”

 

“Crystal-clearly.”

 

There was another silence from the raven. Then, shaking his head, he let out a long sigh. “Fine. But you’ll drink from me.”

 

Ignis looked almost shocked. “Have my actions truly rewarded that little faith in me?”

 

“You want to keep your human, you’ll drink from me, Iggs. Right now.”

 

Ignis’s eyes slid closed, and he nodded, releasing his hold of Prompto who immediately backed away. “As you wish.”

 

Noctis nodded, unfurled his arms, and made a soft gesture inviting the man to come closer. Ignis did, looking a lot like a beaten puppy as he stepped up to him. Noctis was already ungloving his left hand. Without a word, Ignis kneeled in front of him.

 

Noctis soothed Ignis’s hair gently while he offered him his free hand. His expression was soft as he uttered, “I’m sorry, Ignis.”

 

“No, I am sorry, Your Highness.”

 

The scream that had been building up in Prompto’s chest finally tore out as Ignis sunk his teeth into Noctis’s wrist.

 

Panic coursed through him. He had to get out of here! Finally finding his footing, Prompto dashed for the massive wooden doors and yanked the handle. Locked. His heart racing, he tried again, not daring even a glance over his shoulder. The structure didn’t even budge, but Prompto kept yanking the handle desperately. The sounds of slurping and gulping were unnaturally loud in his ears, all-encompassing, like it was the only voice he’d ever hear again. Muttering pleas under his frantic breaths, the blond’s heart sunk as he eventually had to surrender to the fact that the door wasn’t yielding.

 

Behind him, Ignis sighed deep as he stood up. He and Noctis shared a mixed look of dazed adoration and sorrow. Then, he turned around to the door where Prompto stood back towards them, both hands pressed against the solid wood. From this far, Ignis could see the violent trembling of the boy’s shoulders.

 

Ignis called to him, “Prompto.” The blond stilled, gasping and panting, his back still turned to them. “Look at me.” And it was like his body had switched to automatic. Prompto couldn’t stop himself from turning around, his sky-blue eyes shaking with fear, moisture prickling in the corners of his eyes. His pants were rapid and shallow, but he was facing him, standing still as if my some magic.

 

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Ignis strolled closer. Prompto visibly flinched as he got within a few feet of him, his back pressing against the door. Somehow, Ignis’s face fell at that. “Don’t be afraid. I don’t mean to hurt you.”

 

“Bu-but you...you-” Prompto whimpered before his teeth sunk into his lip, a desperate attempt to stop it from trembling.

 

Ignis sighed deep, shaking his head. “Yes. As you have gathered, Prompto, we are, indeed, vampires.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VtM: So, for those of you who don't know the lore of Vampire: the Masquerade tabletop rpg, I just want to explain some things out. First of all, Insomnian territory is governed by a vampiric sect called Camarilla. Camarilla consists of ordered vampire clans who value upholding the concept of 'masquerade', the most sacred of vampire society's rules. It involves active concealment of the vampiric society's existence from mortals (or 'cattle', as Noct refers to Prompto). While in the official lore, the clan Lasombra is often considered anarchistic and belonging to the Camarilla's rival sect, the Sabbat, here I decided to bend the lore just a tiny bit. Simply because I wanted Noctis to be a Lasombra (with a position equal to that of a prince since the Lasombra currently holds the most power in Insomnian Camarilla). Also, the blood curse of the clan Lasombra is that they don't cast a shadow and don't show in mirrors, cameras, tv, on any reflecting surfaces. Makes a life harder when one should always be conscious of reflecting surfaces whenever mortals are around.
> 
> As for Ignis's borderline passionate protectiveness of Prompto, ultimately, vampires are all left to deal with managing their inner Beast. One of the possible ways of dealing is holding onto one's humanity. Having been a human once, a vampire can choose to treasure those values, up to the point of borderline angelic, which is a rather efficient way of holding the Beast back. Ignis is naturally doing a really good job on this. He generally values humanity, respects his food and, as shown, is protective of it. However, please don't assume that what Ignis does is exactly out of love. Vampires are unable to feel love. We are talking more like compassionate combined with accessible. Ignis, as a Ventrue, requires a certain type of blood source, one which Prompto happens to be. Blond young men don't grow in trees in brunette-dominated Insomnia, so he's determined to keep him around, mainly for his own convenience but has no particular interest or reason to hurt Prompto per se. A willing prey is often more fun for him anyway.
> 
> As for what Noctis demanded, Ignis drinking from him, is a lore thing in VtM. Called a blood bond, drinking the blood of a vampire (by anyone, be it other vampire, a mortal or even an animal) creates or strengthens a supernatural bond of compassion, adoration and obedience for the drinker. Frankly, it's a way to enslave, in the cruelest case. And what Noctis does is purely an act of dominance for someone in his position. Ignis is playing a dangerous game with his stubborn clinginess to his human, and Noctis, as a prince, wants to ensure his continued loyalty to himself (and ultimately, to his clan and the Camarilla). It is a cruel thing to demand of him, one neither of them is happy about, for it certainly wasn't the first time. One more time drinking from Noctis, and Ignis would fall under his will, practically unable to disobey him and would become hopelessly in love with him. A weaker blood bond wanes over time, but it is over quite some time, we are talking centuries in his case, so thus Noct's demand is really something done out of sheer authority over Ignis.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, we die like men!

His heart halfway up his esophagus, Prompto pressed tighter against the unrelenting wood. A delicate hand reached out to him, and he let out an involuntary whimper as he turned his face away, eyes squeezing shut in a sad attempt to escape the beast, this daemon now touching him.

 

‘ _Don’t be afraid._ ’

 

Oh yeah? As if! Ignis had just...he’d just- His stomach lurched at the mental image of Ignis...Ignis _drinking that guy’s blood-!_

 

“Don’t touch me!” Prompto spat, hating the quivering in it. “Just-” The words stuck in his throat as the hand -cold, he now noted. Had Ignis always been this cold?- withdrew. A few painstaking pants, an expectant silence that allowed him no reprieve, and Prompto cracked his eyes open.

 

Ignis’s hand hovered a few inches from his head. It was like the limb had frozen mid-motion when the man had snatched it back. Still, it was far closer than Prompto was comfortable with. “Please,” he started, so lowly he practically just formulated it with his lips. “Don’t.” It was pathetic, the way he shook his head and tried to back away as if he was hoping the wall would suddenly swallow him.

 

There was a twitch of lip, a slight furrowing of neat eyebrows. There was irritation in Ignis’s deep sigh, but he lowered his hand nonetheless.

 

Only for the vampire to close the distance. Ignoring Prompto’s startled protest, chilled fingers snatched his chin, and the blond was forced to meet the sparkling emeralds, the vibrant green tinted with almost golden hue. Alluring, yet terrifying at the same time. Not human, Prompto found himself thinking as he felt his strength disappearing under Ignis’s gaze.

 

“Prompto.” Gods, the way Ignis made it sound! The desire seeped into his system like a thief in the dark night. He was scared out of his mind, and yet all he wanted was for this man to never let go.

 

“I need you to listen to me.” Ignis’s eyes narrowed, a spark lighting up amongst the green and gold, and suddenly Prompto had never been so sure about anything in his life. Ignis’s voice low enough to be a murmur, and yet Prompto clung onto every intricate word. He was shivering, his heart thrummed in his ears, but all that mattered was Ignis.

 

“You’re special, Prompto.” Ignis cupped his cheek, never breaking eye contact as he brushed a thumb over the boy’s flushed cheek, and Prompto’s knees buckled a little. “I know all this must be strange to you, but trust me when I say that I don’t mean to harm you.”

 

At that, calmness welled in his heart. Slowly but steadily it quenched the apprehension, dulled his panic, soothing him with a promise of safety, of embrace, love. Ignis made it sound so _right_ , as if assuming anything else had been foolish in the first place. A part of him resisted, for Prompto still gulped in doubt, but his back muscles were unclenching anyway as the boy gradually surrendered to the touch.

 

“No…” The small protest, a last-ditch effort of his reason, lacked conviction. “What are you doing to me…?” Prompto whined weakly, never straying from those magical emeralds that were so inviting, so lush he felt himself drowning into the greenery.

 

“Nothing, love,” Ignis coaxed gently. “I only wish for you to stop fretting. That’s it,” the vampire purred as he felt the boy relaxing. “There’s no need to fear.”

 

His body like jello, Prompto was fairly sure Ignis was the only thing holding him up as he panted lightly. “S-sure?”

 

“I promise you, Prompto.”

 

“O-okey.” Had Ignis ever hurt him?

 

Would he?

 

“I assure you, no-one is going to harm you,” the brunet consoled him as if he’d known those were the exact words Prompto _yearned_ to hear.

 

“Now, while it still stands, you have come to learn of our kind” -he vaguely gestured toward Gladiolus and Noctis, who both stayed back, arms loosely crossed and looking rather bored of their comrade’s antics- “and that knowledge makes you stand out from your own.” He paused to study the boy: Prompto was devouring every word, but distrust and fear still flickered amongst the sky blue. Well, to be expected. The boy was hooked, though. He could _smell_ the conflict welling in the blond. His lip curled up ever so slightly at the edge, a sly look on his features as the undead leaned closer, to whisper in the boy’s ear:

 

“I want you to stay by my side, Prompto.”

 

Prompto’s eyes widened. “Wha-?”

 

Ignis withdrew enough to be able to gaze into his eyes again and cupped the boy’s cheek gently; instinctively Prompto nuzzled into the touch, sighing quietly and closing his eyes.

 

“You interest me. I have never met anyone as...exquisite as you,” Ignis purred. “Just looking at you, touching you, makes me want to _kiss you_ …” The vampire pressed closer.

 

Through the haze of sweet talk, something, a survival instinct, screamed at Prompto not to listen. “N-no…”

 

Ignis slid his fingers down his cheek slowly, no doubt treasuring every shiver the action elicited. “But you’ve experienced it once already,” he coaxed as-a-matter-of-factly. “My kiss.”

 

And suddenly the hotel room from a month ago came rushing back. Ignis, breathing down his neck; those talented hands pulling him close; a stinging pain before his world washed white with _mind-blowing pleasure-_

 

Gasping, Prompto’s gaze sharpened. Ignis’s expression betrayed nothing as the blond slapped a hand over the area he had bit him all those weeks ago. Primal panic flooded the sky eyes again as _understanding_ dawned in him.

 

“No…!” The small rise of a brunet eyebrow assured him that yes, yes indeed.

 

“No...you, you-” Prompto’s throat clenched around the next words that tried to rise onto his tongue. No, it couldn’t be! But, despite how hard his rapidly blurring mind tried to tell him otherwise, nausea pooled in his gut at the recollection of the _pain_. Distinct, sharp. Unlike any love bite he’d ever received during sex. And the bliss that had engulfed him, incredible. Sur...surreal…

 

Ignis remained silent, but slender fingers trailed down Prompto’s throat in a manner that left nothing unsaid, coming to rest on the crook at the bottom of his neck before sliding up the side where Prompto’s pulse thrummed frantically beneath his fingers; Ignis let out a shuddery breath, eager, _hungry_ . “ _Prompto_ …”

 

If it had been the name that had ensnared him, it was also the key that freed him. In a surge of strength, Prompto shoved the man away from him. “No! Leggo of me!”

 

Gasping, Ignis staggered back several steps, a hand comically suspended in mid-air as if to balance himself but too stiff.

 

Prompto didn’t waste time paying attention. Adrenaline rushed through his system again, a wild horse looking for a way out of his pen. A quick glance to scan the vampires through: the big guy and the young man had perked up at his feat, and not knowing what else to do, the blond went for the handle again.

 

His heart echoed with an empty pang as the door followed along. A million questions as for why it would suddenly yield would have to wait for later; for as soon as his initial stupor allowed it, with one last glance behind him, Prompto was through the door and dashing down a luxuriously furnished aisle.

 

Behind him, Ignis heaved out a mix of a chuckle and sigh, and straightened his vest. He didn’t need to acknowledge the Gangrel that came to stand next to him. He knew Gladio would speak first.

 

“You let him go.”

 

“Yes. I did.”

 

“Why?” the older didn’t bother hiding his perplexion, although there was amusement in the tone. A hint of the man’s preference for a chase.

 

Ignis smirked. “What good is a pet that isn’t obedient?” He let it sink for a moment before adding, “The boy’s distressed right now but a part of him has already succumbed. He’ll come back to me.”

 

“You sure about that, Iggy?” Gladiolus certainly wasn’t as he crossed his arms, leaning his weight on one foot questioningly. “What if he talks?”

 

“He won’t.”

 

“Sure of yourself, Specs,” Noctis drawled but didn’t sound too worried himself. In fact, the vampire prince was grinning.

 

Ignis just shrugged. “That boy has been claimed already. He’ll find that shameful to confess to others. His chagrin will hold his tongue.” He turned to face his kindred, crossing his own arms loosely. Mischief and victory danced in his eyes as he chuckled lowly, “Besides. Who’s to believe him anyway?”

 

* * *

 

Prompto didn’t stop running before his legs were about to give out. Finally slumping against a lamp post, Prompto heaved in air like it was the first time. Blood roared in his ears and his side stung with the exertion; the taste of tang coated his mouth. Air smelled of salt, musk and copper.

 

Against his will, Prompto slid down on his knees as his strained body couldn’t cope any longer. Everything that had happened tonight -the drugging and the dash- it was proving to be too much. He tried to convince himself otherwise, tried to push himself back up and keep going. What if they had followed him? With the way he was, he was no match. These men...no, animals. _Vampires_. They could just swarm him and pick him up like a berry. There was nothing he could do, he’d-

 

Prompto gagged at the potential outcomes of his train of thought, each one less pleasant than the previous. He felt so small, like a bug with a boot hovering above him already. He couldn’t believe this. How long had these...these creatures hidden amongst people? Had they always been there and no-one had realized? What did they want?

 

‘ _I want you to stay by my side, Prompto.’_

“Ignis…” He chest tightened. Ignis had...bitten him. Was that what had happened? Probably. Fingers clutched the place where he remembered those tantalizing lips having raked and let out a shuddering breath. He had bitten him! He had bitten _himhehadbitten_!

 

What was going to happen to him? Was he a monster? Prompto had seen some movies where people bitten by these things turned into beasts themselves. Was that what Ignis had meant, ‘by his side’? No! No, no, he didn’t want to-! Ignis had _promised him_! He had promised him not to hurt him-

 

Prompto’s eyes widened, a breath exiting as something occurred to him.

 

Despite the terror of his revelation, not in his best attempts did Prompto have it in him to claim that Ignis had _hurt_ him.

 

The memento of the dazzling bliss, the supreme wholeness that had engulfed him and _ripped him of his senses_ \- that had been Ignis. No matter how he looked at it - here in the ground, on his knees and the urge to flee pumping adrenaline through his system - Prompto couldn’t bring himself to call that anything but what it was. That wasn’t ‘hurting’. It was far from it. In fact, as the memories surged through his dizzy mind, slivers of arousal coiled in his loins despite the exhaustion. The way Ignis’s fingers had left trails of tingles along his heated skin, how his lips had massaged his own-

 

No!

 

Focus, Prompto!

 

Biting his cheek, the blond forced those thoughts from his mind. That man was a ruse. A convenient lie Ignis undoubtedly put up to lure people in.

 

Like he had lured him.

 

Dammit, he wasn’t supposed to go there! Grunting, Prompto leaned on all fours and pushed himself back in his feet. He couldn’t stay out here. Anyone could be coming at him at any second. Hairs in the back of his neck rose at that sudden, chilling feeling of being watched again. Gulping, the blond forced his legs to work. Breaking into jogging down the road the best he could but now mindful of the stinging sensation like someone was pushing a knitting needle between his ribs, Prompto made the rest of the way home, wishing upon the heavens he had never gone out in the first place.

 

As soon as he was through the door, he locked it, then slumped back against the wood, knees drawn close to his chest. Face found palms, and Prompto whimpered quietly as slightly trembling fingers seeked purchase in his hair.

 

Sitting there trying to compose himself, he panted heavily - partly as means to will away the _thunderous_ arousal demanding attention between his legs. The run had done everything except helped. Despite himself, vivid memories of Ignis roaming his body, touching him, _tasting_ him, all eventually culminating into that otherworldly orgasm had pooled his mind, and Prompto knew he was too far gone to ignore it anymore.

 

Moaning in frustration, he finally pushed himself from the floor. Beelining to the bathroom, leaving behind a trail of discarded clothing, Prompto all but slammed the shower doors shut before turning the water on.

 

Later, the warm waters washed his wanton moans with them before Prompto could make out the name he was muttering as he palmed himself. Stroking himself frantically as if to get it over with, Prompto made a mental note _not to think about Ignis_ as he drove himself toward completion.

 

Just green eyes and tempting lips.

 

He came with a loud cry, almost crumbling from the force of it. As he leaned his weight onto the tile, gasping for air as the aftershocks raked down his thighs, a suave voice murmured his name gently in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VtM vampires are two-faced, backstabbing bastards!  
> Ignis, no matter how angelic he may behave toward Prompto, has his own agenda.  
> Prompto is dinner.  
> Ignis just wants his dinner to want him back.  
> Stay safe, guys. Just because you ain't seeing it, it doesn't mean it isn't seeing you.


End file.
